Manual
by Wai - Aki
Summary: Ryoma thinks Fuji should come with an instruction manual. [FujiRyo]


AN: My TezuFuji fangirl is crying in the corner because of this piece of absolute evil. Inspired by the few FujiRyo authors out there. *hides*

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Title: Manual

Rating: PG/PG-13 (light swearing)

Pairing: FujixRyoma

Genre: Ryoma-ness XD

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Ryoma thinks Fuji should come with an instruction manual.

And not one of those manuals that come with the DVD player either. He wants one of those electronic kinds that he can slip in his pocket and carry around. And it has to have all the answers whenever he encounters a Fuji-related problem.

Unfortunately, you can't troubleshoot a sadistic bastard. Not without the risk of being inadvertently screwed yourself. 

Of course, he should point out the fact that not only is Fuji a sadistic bastard; he's also a _constantly smiling_ sadistic bastard. Meaning? It's awfully hard to know what he's plotting when he's smiling at you as if everything in the world is right.

The only time you know that you're really screwed is when you can see the blue of his eyes. But that's for most people. Ryoma got used to the evil blue gaze pretty quickly. It still cause his hair to stand on ends in the rare chance it does appear, but nowadays he can pull a look of disinterest even though his internal alarm is screaming danger.

There's one thing that separates Fuji from his evil counterparts and that is the fact that he's just too damn likeable. Not to mention he's a great person to talk to when you're trying to come up with a revenge scheme to get back at nosy senpai who are trying to convince you to go out on dates no matter how many times you've threatened bodily harm. 

It's unsurprising that the beginning of their relationship started with nothing more than Ryoma's willingness to get back at his senpai. And Fuji, who had claimed that he is a firm believer of karmatic actions--which Ryoma now learns is a complete and utter crap, but Fuji had to come up with an excuse to spend more time with him--graciously offered his services to the embittered second year.

Ryoma has to admit that his social skills were--and are--lacking, so it shouldn't come as a surprise that the blatant advances that Fuji pulled on him didn't faze him. He didn't even realize what was going on, so how could he react to the fingers that would play with the hair on the base of his neck? Or the subtle--and not so subtle--brushes of legs under the table? 

It wasn't until Fuji chuckled and then leaned forward to actually give him a peck on the lips that he finally realized what his senpai was doing. Ryoma had to admit that blinking stupidly was hardly the reaction he should have given. But to scream bloody murder and whack the tennis genius with a racket hardly seemed fitting. Not to mention it would have been too much work.

But he realized that he should have been listed down in the idiot's hall of fame for the "Oh" he managed to squeak out. Fuji's amused chuckles still haunt him to this day. Although the anger that rose from the genius' reaction quickly subsided when a hand reached out to brush away his bangs. 

To say that Ryoma was intrigued would be an understatement. And let it be noted that anything that catches Ryoma's interest turns into a goal or an aim all too soon. That wasn't the way with Fuji. Instead of focusing on a goal and sticking to it the way he'd always done, he simply sat back and watched and found himself dragged into this whole mess of strange relationships and whatnots.

But Ryoma never complained. Much.

The pleasant smile faltered for a moment, eyes opening briefly to reveal a flash of blue before closing once more. Apparently Fuji caught him staring and undoubtedly caught the scowl that decorated his face at that moment. 

"_Saa_, are you alright, Ryoma?" 

Ryoma tugged his cap lower, shrugging. A familiar hand snaked its way around his waist, pulling him closer to the older boy. The tennis match between Tezuka and Atobe just ended. 7-6, still a close margin, but the victor this time was Tezuka. Both were second-years in their respective high schools and it was obvious to everyone that they would become the captain of their own teams next year.

"You think Tezuka knows that Atobe's out to get him?" Fuji asked innocently. Ryoma, knowing better, didn't reply. He knew what Fuji was up to and although this particular relationship didn't interest him that much--this was Tezuka-_buchou_ after all, so there was a slight interest--he knew that his boyfriend would drag him into this scheme.

 "Leave Tezuka-_buchou_ alone." He merely replied.

"Oh? If I didn't know any better Ryoma, I'd think that I should be worried." Ryoma's breath hitched slightly at cold lips pressed against his neck. "Hmm? Should I worry?"

Ryoma could easily see his boyfriend's eyes open just slightly from the corner of his eyes. The smirk came naturally as he shrugged, noting to himself that Fuji is a bad influence. 

"I'd do it if you'd take all responsibility." The rumble of Fuji's chuckle sent the faintest shiver down his spine, but Ryoma didn't mind. The last thing on Ryoma's mind as they walked over to where Tezuka was standing, was that he really didn't need that manual. After all, one of the more appealing things about Fuji is that he's unpredictable and with a manual, wouldn't that make him more predictable? Besides, life is never boring when you're the boyfriend of the sneakiest and most sadistic genius around.

~~End~~

Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis (c) Takeshi Konomi et al.

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Wai: So how was it? Ready to strangle me? Praise me(I wish)? Or just "......"? XD


End file.
